


Comfort/Food

by spockside



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Food, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, New York City
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-23
Updated: 2012-10-03
Packaged: 2017-11-14 20:52:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spockside/pseuds/spockside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whenever they all got together for a meal or "movie night", there was something different on the table. Now, Steve wasn't completely averse to new experiences, and he surprised the others occasionally by refuting their idea that everyone in the 1940's had lived on either war rations or bland food.</p><p>Hell, he was from Brooklyn, after all, a melting pot if ever there was one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For an [avengerkink prompt](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/9218.html?thread=19245314#t19467010), to wit: "The others all like Thai or sushi take-out or some other exotic foods, while Steve absolutely hates it. Well, hate is a strong word, but he just wasn't into uncooked meals and the exotic foods they would always get on nights where they order in and have a movie night. He eats it just to keep Tony at bay, but he usually ends up sneaking it on Thor's plate.
> 
> After awhile (or when Darcy joins Jane at SHIELD/Stark tower or whatever you choose), Darcy realizes that Steve doesn't like the food the others do. And thus is her plan to find exactly what kind of foods he does like."
> 
> Prompt also requested Steve/Darcy percolation, so.

Steve Rogers thought he could really put it away until he had a few meals with Thor. That guy, damn, he not only had a bottomless pit of a stomach but he ate almost anything. (The only exception seemed to be SPAM, for which Steve didn't blame him a bit.)  
  
The rest of the team had varied tastes, some of which were new to Steve, so whenever they all got together for a meal or "movie night", there was something different on the table. Now, Steve wasn't completely averse to new experiences, and he surprised the others occasionally by refuting their idea that everyone in the 1940's had lived on either war rations or bland food.  
  
Hell, he was from Brooklyn, after all, a melting pot if ever there was one.  
  
He started off trying a little of everything. He'd liked Chinese food the few times he'd tried it, back in The Day, and of course Italian - you couldn't live in his part of town without eating pasta - and until the War started there had been a few places you could get bratwurst and other kinds of German sausage.  
  
Steve's enthusiasm was wearing thin, though. Stark was always pestering him to broaden his horizons; Bruce always preferred something spicy, usually from a country or culture Steve had never heard of; Clint was a vegetarian and Natasha was fond of sushi, which to Steve tasted like nothing more than bait and seaweed.  
  
One day he was staring at the assorted leftovers in the common refrigerator when he heard approaching footsteps. Heels, not as brisk as Ms. Potts' or as loud as Agent Hill's, therefore, probably...  
  
"Darcy, hey," he greeted the young lady who'd entered the kitchen area. "Nice to see you."  
  
"You too," she grinned. "Lunch time already?"  
  
"You know me, it's always lunch time. Or dinner time, or breakfast..."  
  
"True," she said. "I could use a snack. What's on the menu?"  
  
She peered into the fridge and Steve got distracted for a moment. From his height and angle he got a nice wave of her perfume as well as a decent view down her -  
  
He yanked his gaze back to the task at hand and sighed. Darcy had picked up a white box and opened it, and crowed, "Mu shu, my favorite! I can't believe there's any left."  
  
"Thor didn't join us last night," Steve explained. "He always finishes off the mu shu so we ordered double, and now we have a boatload. Dig in."  
  
"What about you?"  
  
"Not really my thing," said Steve, getting out some sandwich fixings and a soda. "I like Chinese, but not mu shu. Too, I don't know, mu-shy."  
  
Darcy reheated the food in the microwave and they sat down to eat.  
  
"Is food different now, from when you grew up? Or during the war?" she asked. Steve shrugged.  
  
"Not the food so much. Mostly what goes into it, and how it's cooked."  
  
"No monosodium glutamate," she mused. "No high fructose corn syrup, added salt or sugar or anything fake."  
  
"Right."  
  
"What did you like to eat, back then?" she asked him.  
  
"Cheesesteak, when we were in Philly for the tour," he replied, thinking. "White hots. Lasagna. Pickled beets - and there was a place in Brooklyn that made the best borscht, right next to a place that made a minestrone..."  
  
"Damn, it's been so long since I had a cheesesteak," Darcy fretted.  
  
"When are you done for the day?" Steve asked. "We can go looking for the perfect cheesesteak."  
  
"That sounds like a totally good time," she said. "But believe me, there's no way I can justify that kind of food on my current diet. A minute on the lips, forever on the hips, you know."  
  
She grinned. Steve shook his head.  
  
"Your hips are fine," he told her. "And you gotta treat yourself when you can. Come on."  
  
He caught her eye; she looked kind of - startled.  
  
"You noticed my hips?" she said incredulously.  
  
"Um, that's okay, right?" Steve asked. "You know I'm not just saying that to - "  
  
"It's totally okay," Darcy reassured him. "I'm glad you like 'em. Really."  
  
They did go for cheesesteak. Darcy compromised by ordering a diet soda and eating only two of Steve's fries, at least while he was looking.


	2. Chapter 2

Only a few days later, it was Friday night, movie night, and it was Thor's turn to provide sustenance, as he put it. Having learned early on that humans didn't feast in the same manner or volume as Asgardians, he showed admirable restraint, consulting Jane on the best choices.  
  
So when he showed up with something that resembled a cross between Nordic and Mongolian cuisine, everyone dug in and tried it. Steve liked some of the meat dishes all right - they reminded him of shawarma - but eyed the rest rather dubiously.  
  
He was glad, later, that he hadn't tried the fried rolls.  
  
"What are these? Giant spring rolls?" Tony took a big bite and looked pleasantly surprised.   
  
"Dragon rolls," Thor replied. "I found the version you produce on Midgard a bit - lacking in spice, shall we say? I made these myself."  
  
He looked a bit smug. Jane looked like she was waiting for the punch line. Bruce took a nibble off one of the rolls and looked thoughtful.  
  
"What's in them?" he asked.  
  
"The batter is made with ale," Thor replied. "And there are spices and herbs mixed in with the meat."  
  
"What kind of meat?" Tony inquired.  
  
"Well, dragon, of course," said Thor. Jane burst out laughing, Tony looked alarmed, Clint shrugged and said he was glad he was a vegetarian. Bruce went on calmly eating his roll.  
  
Steve went into the kitchen and called Darcy, got out his bike, and they went to Hinch's for eggcreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This bit was inspired by another comment on the food thread: "Does Thor think a dragon roll has actual dragons in it?"


	3. Chapter 3

"You gonna duck out on us again this week, Rogers?"  
  
Tony's voice rang out the length of the corridor and Steve looked up, to observe his friend strolling toward him, hands in his pockets, like he was walking down a sunny street. It was, in fact, raining outside, and the only upside to that was the panoramic view from most of the tower's terraces.  
  
"Depends," said Steve. "Who's buying?"  
  
"Dr. Foster." Tony came up to where Steve was waiting for the elevator, just as Steve let out a very quiet groan.  
  
"Jane? As in, sugar overload Foster?"  
  
"The very one," said Tony, grinning. "You'd better have some protein before you arrive."  
  
He was referring to the last time Jane had provided goodies, every one sweeter and higher in calories than the last, and though Steve didn't have a problem digesting the calories or sugar, after the first ten minutes his teeth ached and his tongue felt like it stuck to the roof of his mouth.  
  
"Noted and logged."  
  
He grinned back at Tony and stepped into the elevator, headed down to street level to take the subway home.  
  
He was standing on a platform waiting to change lines when he heard a familiar voice call out, "Steve! Hey, Steve."  
  
Steve turned to see the approach of another friend, this one soaked and bedraggled but beaming.  
  
"Hey, Darcy," he said. "Did you try to swim home?"  
  
She stuck her tongue out at him, but she was still smiling.  
  
"This is the result of a three-block sprint between my favorite bakery and the station," she told him. "But it's worth it. I have enough bialys to last me a few days, and at least *they're* dry."  
  
She patted her bulging messenger bag, which zipped at the top. Steve's interest was piqued, partly by mention of bialys and partly because Darcy soaked was still Darcy beautiful.  
  
"Bialys?" he said hopefully. "Where'd you get 'em?"  
  
"Kossar's, and no, you can't have one," she said. "I got off specifically to go there, and I waded through a flood, and I'm going home to dry off and have tea and bialys and read."  
  
Steve knew where Darcy lived, having taken her home before; she'd turned down Stark's offer to live at the Tower but had taken him up on his offer to provide a low-rent apartment in one of his higher-class properties. It wasn't that far from where Steve lived.  
  
"Can I make you a counter-offer?" he asked. "Come over to my place with the bialys. I'll make you tea and you can sit and read while your clothes dry."  
  
"What, on my clammy skin?"  
  
Steve blushed. "Um, you can borrow something of mine. I have a washer and dryer that I hardly use."  
  
"Hmm," she said, eyeing him as if he were making a more sordid proposal. "If you promise to take me home when my clothes are dry..."  
  
"I promise."  
  
"And that you won't eat *all* the bialys..."  
  
"Promise. And I'll get you some more, from Kossar's."  
  
The train came into the station and the doors opened.  
  
"In that case," she said grandly, stepping in, "I accept your offer."  
  
Steve followed, stifling a chuckle at the way her wet shoes squelched.


	4. Chapter 4

"I know you're averting your eyes," Darcy said, standing just inside Steve's door, dripping. "But could you just throw a towel in my general direction, please?"  
  
Steve had made a beeline for the closet; pulling out a couple of thick bath towels, he walked right up to Darcy, keeping his eyes on hers, and handed them to her ceremoniously. She giggled.  
  
"Wow, good job averting," she said. "And your bathroom is - ?"  
  
Steve swept an arm toward the chamber in question and said, "I'll make some tea."  
  
He was wet from the knees down himself, having held most of his umbrella over his companion, so he went into his room and changed into sweat pants, dug out something for Darcy to put on, and was pouring boiling water into two mugs when he heard a soft pat of bare feet behind him.  
  
"Darcy," he said without turning. "Please, tell me you're not naked."  
  
"That's a first." She did sound impressed. "Usually guys are after the opposite effect. No, Captain America, I'm not naked, not completely - "  
  
The red-blooded American male in him wanted to turn and look. The gentleman his mother had raised held him back.  
  
" - so what do you have suitable for lounging, besides a couple of towels?"  
  
"On the sofa," he replied. "Pajamas. Hope that's okay."  
  
"You actually own pajamas?" The pitter patter faded as she exited the kitchen; Steve let several minutes go by before putting the mugs and bialys on a tray and going into the living room.  
  
"They look better on you than on me," he said.  
  
It was a pair Tony had given him last Christmas - flannel, with candy canes all over them. Steve had worn them exactly once, when he'd shown up at Tony's brownstone for Christmas morning festivities, along with slippers, bathrobe, and a huge teddy bear on loan from Natasha. After wearing that stretchy Captain America costume all over the world with the USO, flannel pajamas were downright respectable, he figured.  
  
"Thank you," Darcy said and they sat down with tea and bialys (after Darcy put her clothes in the dryer).  
  
Steve was nowhere near as bashful or easily embarrassed as some (Tony and Clint) believed. True, he'd never loaned a woman his clothes before - and pajamas, to boot - nor had he met anyone as easygoing and trusting as Darcy. But manners were manners, so he did his best not to spend too much time looking at just how good his pj's looked on her. Or imagining how good she'd look without them.  
  
He shook his head vigorously, covering his chagrin with a yawn, and Darcy immediately said, "Hey, I should check on the dryer."  
  
She put down her mug, but Steve stopped her, saying, "No, no, you look too cozy to move. I'll go."  
  
When he got back from checking (they were, indeed, still damp), he said, "It'll be another ten, fifteen minutes. I'll go wash up."  
  
"You want a hand?"  
  
"Nope," said Steve. "Stay put."  
  
He took the mugs and plate back to the kitchen, washed up a bit, and only ten minutes later went back into the living room to find Darcy curled up at one end of the sofa - asleep.  
  
Slogging through the rain in search of comfort food must have taken it out of her, he thought fondly. He recalled that feeling all too well, though it was years away. So he got a fleece cover to throw over her, left the light on in the bathroom, and before he went to his own bed he leaned down to kiss her on the forehead.  
  
"Sweet dreams," he whispered.


	5. Chapter 5

"I like Jane," said Pepper. "Don't get me wrong. I have a soft spot for brilliant scientists. But I think I'm going to eat nothing but vegetables and protein for the next few days. How does she eat all those sugars and carbs and stay so tiny?"  
  
"I think she only eats once a week," said Steve, who was reading the newspaper in the private lounge while Pepper worked at the table with her laptop.   
  
"Well, when it's your turn, I don't want to see anything sweeter than biscotti on the table."  
  
Steve got up and consulted the wall calendar over the coffee maker. This week was Bruce's turn; the following week was his own. He was thinking over what he wanted to do when his phone chimed.   
  
Darcy said, "Dude, you didn't wake me up."  
  
Steve laughed. "Good morning, sunshine. You looked too comfy."  
  
"You're lucky I work for Jane. She never notices when I show up, as long as nobody comes looking for me. She's worse than Bruce and Tony put together."  
  
Steve's private opinion was that Bruce and Tony were more likely than Jane to notice the presence of any attractive female - but he knew he was probably biased. He said simply, "I left some bialys in your desk drawer - I figured if I left them on the desk they'd get swiped."  
  
"In that case, I forgive you," she said magnanimously.   
  
He went looking for her at lunch time and found her in the public lounge on the thirtieth floor, having some chicken soup.  
  
"I'm making a preemptive strike, in case I caught a chill yesterday," she said.  
  
"Chicken soup's a classic," Steve said. "Where'd you get it?"  
  
She held up the container and he read Soup Kitchen International.  
  
"A little out of my way," she said. "But you know me, I'll take a detour for the good stuff. Want some?"  
  
She produced a spare plastic spoon and he scooped up a mouthful and closed his eyes.  
  
"Holy cats, that's - whew," he said.  
  
Darcy giggled. "I know, huh? We should go there next. He makes a lobster bisque you would not believe, either."  
  
"Speaking of going there..."  
  
He leaned closer and started to tell her about his plan.  
  
*  *  *  
  
That Friday, Bruce brought along some strongly spiced fare, both vegetarian- and carnivore-friendly and completely alien to Steve's taste buds. Tony ribbed Steve about his super-soldier digestion, Steve gave him grief in return about the pizza Tony almost always brought.  
  
("You have an unlimited budget and selection and you just get pizza?"  
  
"But it's New York pizza, Steve. You can't go wrong with that."  
  
"You can, if you only ever bring anchovy, pepperoni, and Hawaiian. And really, Tony, Hawaiian? Who the hell puts fruit on their pizza?")  
  
The following week Tony and Natasha both teased Steve about what he was planning to bring on Friday. Steve just smiled and tried to look mysterious and was almost relieved when they had to run drills over the North Sea for a couple of days.  
  
On Tuesday, he went to the small room he occasionally frequented when bureaucracy demanded his time, and found his candy cane pajamas on the table, clean and neatly folded and with an order of chicken soup parked next to it. A note on top said, "Comfort food and comfort jammies! Thanks for the loan. Love, D. P.S. I placed the order for Friday."  
  
He took his treasures to the common room, where he heated up the soup and sat down to write up his report, forgetting all about the pjs until he heard a step behind him and the voice of Nick Fury.  
  
"If you'd told me this was a costume party, I'd've brought mine," the director chuckled.  
  
Steve refused to imagine what kind of pajamas his commanding officer might wear and said, "I loaned them out to - someone, and she returned them just today."  
  
Fury managed to look more surprised with one eye than most people did with two. "'She'? Do I want to know?"  
  
"She'd probably rather you didn't," said Steve. "Sir."  
  
Just then, of course, Darcy came in, bringing a brown bag; when she saw the Director she veered off into the kitchen area and busied herself taking out her lunch. Fury finished a brief conversation with Steve and swept out.  
  
"He's gone," Steve said to Darcy, coming up behind her and making her shriek and smack him on the shoulder.  
  
"How can you be so big and so damn quiet at the same time? Also, ouch, my hand." She shook it and Steve caught hold of it and kissed it with exaggerated care.  
  
"All better?" he asked.  
  
Darcy licked her lips and opened her mouth to say something - and was interrupted by the strident tones of Tony Stark.  
  
"Hello, anybody home? Oh, there you are." Tony ambled into the kitchen area just as Steve dropped Darcy's hand, blushing. "Well, I was going to ask Captain Rogers if he wanted to come help me test the new material for his uniform. But this looks much more - cozy."  
  
He showed no sign of departing, but rather leaned up against the counter, arms crossed, patented Tony Stark smirk on his face. Steve knew that nothing would move the guy, from polite hints to pointed comments to downright bald orders, so he looked at Darcy, who was trying to not look annoyed, and said, "I'll bring it. Just text me the place and time."  
  
"Sure will," she said, pointedly taking her lunch over to the table.  
  
Steve collected his belongings while Tony wandered over.  
  
"Hey, aren't those the jammies I bought for you last Christmas? What are they doing here?"  
  
"Well, you know, that suit of mine isn't great for lounging around in," Steve said with a straight face. "I figured I'd keep something comfortable here, for movie nights, you know? Or sleepovers. I hear that some people have those, too."  
  
"Oh, yeah," said Darcy. "Jane and I love sleepovers. Her bed's so big, when Thor is gone, she likes to have company. She said I could bring a friend, too."  
  
Tony looked suspicious while Darcy batted her eyelashes at Steve. Steve reminded himself to compliment her later on that layer of blarney.


	6. Chapter 6

Friday night, Darcy actually got use of a SHIELD sedan; she and Steve sneaked out of the tower by separate doors and went to pick up their purchases. When they got back to the tower garage, Darcy was giggling and Steve was grinning.  
  
"They're going to love this," she said.  
  
"I know, right?" Steve replied, taking packages out of the car. "Best of all, *we're* going to love it."  
  
With the help of JARVIS' surveillance, they got the food up to the kitchen without anyone noticing (much), and Steve started opening packages and containers and getting out dishes.  
  
"No, no, no," Darcy said at one point. "Not that. Keep that in the kitchen - under cover. That's just for us."  
  
Steve looked at the container in his hand and nodded. "Yeah, once they spot this it'll disappear and we won't get a drop. Okay, what else?"  
  
By the time Bruce came wandering in - contrary to popular belief, he had a keen sense of time, especially when it came to mealtimes - the food was set out on the table buffet-style, along with plates, glasses, flatware, and anything else that might be required.  
  
"Steve," said Bruce. "Darcy. Wow, this is - special. Are those real white hots?"  
  
"Help yourself," said Steve. "Before everybody else gets here."  
  
Bruce smiled and helped himself as the others straggled in.  
  
"Cheesesteak," Thor noticed with appreciation as he served himself (and a smaller portion for Jane). "I've heard of this - it smells delicious."  
  
"Glad we got extra," Steve murmured to Darcy, who smiled. "You're a genius."  
  
He dropped a kiss on her ear before moving quickly away to bring out drinks.  
  
"If you're gonna have cheesesteak, you gotta have beer," he said. "This place started out in Brooklyn. I was kind of disappointed that they moved out of town. But 'Schaefer's is the one to have, when you're having more than one'!"  
  
He and Thor toasted each other with the bottles just as Tony arrived.  
  
"Schaefer's! I haven't had one of those in - well, never mind," he said, making a beeline for the table. "White hots, cheesesteak, pasta, alfredo or marinara, greens, and is that - borscht?"  
  
"Step away from the borscht, Stark," Natasha warned him. "I have first dibs on that."  
  
"Nehi soda for anybody who doesn't want beer," added Steve. "Though they have a lot more flavors than when I was a kid."  
  
"What's the movie?" Clint asked.  
  
"I let Darcy pick," Steve told him. "Darce?"  
  
Darcy had been hanging back a bit; even though she worked for a subsidiary of SHIELD and was at the tower every day, she'd never seen all of them together and at home. She looked slightly overwhelmed, but delighted at the same time.  
  
"'On The Town'," she said. "Gene Kelly, Frank Sinatra, and a really underrated guy named Jules Munshin."  
  
"A musical," said Clint. Natasha shot him a look.  
  
"You don't have to stick around for it," she said blandly. "But if you leave, you're leaving that food here, too."  
  
"You might even like it," said Pepper, the last to arrive. Tony gave her a smooch and showed her the table.  
  
"Look what the kid from Brooklyn brought us," he said. "Guess he's not the only example of vintage New York City around here."  
  
"Wow, that's the nicest thing you've ever said about me, Tony."  
  
Tony made no reply, mainly because Pepper had stuck a piece of bread in his mouth. Steve and Darcy retreated to the kitchen, where she high-fived him and burst out giggling.  
  
"Let's have the soup now," she said, rummaging behind dishes to uncover the containers they'd hidden. "Might have to microwave 'em."  
  
They did so, but just as they picked up spoons to eat in the kitchen Bruce appeared.  
  
"I've been sent to ask - wait, is that what I think it is?"  
  
Darcy made a show of hiding her container; Steve just said, "It's soup, what about it?"  
  
"It's Soup Man soup," said Bruce, looking impressed. "Fresh from his place, right? No wonder you're eating it in the kitchen. I wouldn't share it either."  
  
"I don't get that," Steve replied while Darcy smiled. "It's amazing stuff, sure, but what's all the fuss about Al's take-out place?"  
  
"Long story," said Bruce.  
  
"I told him," Darcy said to Bruce. "*He* never has any trouble there, though, unlike certain billionaires I could name."  
  
Bruce grinned.  
  
"Tony made the mistake of suggesting improvements to the kitchen, the one time he went," he told Steve. "He's never been allowed to cross the threshold again." He shrugged. "I go there all the time, no problem."  
  
The three of them grinned and Steve asked, "So what were you sent back here for?"  
  
"Oh - to inquire whether there would be dessert," said Bruce. "Natasha wants to save room."  
  
"Italian ices," Darcy announced. "And egg creams. Made on the premises."  
  
"Fantastic."  
  
Once Bruce had departed to deliver the news, Steve looked at Darcy and said, "I couldn't have done this without you."  
  
"Oh come on, you're Captain America, you can do anything," she teased.  
  
"Anything?"  
  
He put down his empty container, backed her up into the pantry and gave in to a long-simmering urge to kiss her. She tasted like lobster bisque and chocolate and he forgot all about food or drink or the movie or anything but Darcy's mouth for some time.  
  
Eventually, their customers started to demand dessert, so with a look and a sigh (and on Darcy's part, a smirk) the two served the final course and started the movie, to the general approval of all. Steve went back into the kitchen with a triumphant grin.

  
"All quiet on the western front?" Darcy asked; she was stowing some containers in the fridge as he loaded dishes into the dishwasher. "Come on, you cooked, you don't have to clean up."

"Don't I?"

Steve eyed her briefly, then reached to pull loose the bow on her apron strings.

"Let me introduce you to a phrase you might not have heard back when," she said. "Kiss the cook."

And she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kossar's, Soup Kitchen International, Hinch's, Nehi Soda, and Schaefer Beer are all real brands and places. For more background on what might have been on the menu in Brooklyn in the 1930's and 1940's, take a look at Wikipedia's entry on the [cuisine of New York City.](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cuisine_of_New_York_City)


End file.
